Alpha Rolf's Omega

Sherry hooks her thumbs in her backpack’s straps. At least she got through the summer in an air conditioned apartment before reality kicked her back to the road. That was nice. If she times it right, maybe she can hide out for the winter too. Fall and spring aren’t so bad for hitchhiking.

A big truck passes, roaring, kicking up a whirlwind. Sherry drifts further off the road, into the dirt and weeds. A little later toward the evening she’ll stick her thumb out, and likely one of those truckers will stop for her. Skinny girls like her get rides pretty easy. They don’t find out until the end that Shelley isn’t their kind of pleasure. Too many teeth.

She smirks, remembering such a run in. But not for long. In her mind, the trucker transforms into an alpha, and suddenly the tables have turned.

No human could ever r*p* her unless she was mightily drugged first. Not so for the assortment of rogue wolves on her tail.

Each new home holds new acquaintances and friendships, and for awhile, safety. The chance to live like a stranger with a normal life. She really liked this place, but she’s already stayed about six weeks too long. That’s when the wolf attacks started showing up on the news.

She's sorry about that. As an omega, violence doesn’t come naturally to her the way it seems to do for the others of her kind.

The unranked aren’t too bad. They’re typical, generally easygoing. All want to impress the alpha, of course, but that’s just normal for wolves.

Betas are pretty bad, the second in command, always sucking up while looking for an opportunity to take the lead.

But alphas? They’re ruthless. Just thinking about it creates a painful pulse in her chest, makes a tightness like tears form around her eyes.

Her mother was the alpha female of their pack. She went through three males, each more vicious than the last. She can’t remember much about the first, her father, except that she missed him when he was killed and replaced. It doesn’t matter. Likely, her father would have abhorred and exiled her just the same.

Omegas are hated because they are weak but yet they are irresistible to male and female alike. People don’t like them because they are less dominant.

It’s not her fault. She can’t exactly change the way she smells. Hiding out in the city worked for awhile, keeping the other wolves at bay, but it was only a matter of time before they became impatient. Once they realized she wasn’t leaving, they started creeping in. And sure enough, mangled, half-eaten pets began showing up on the news, along with the occasional midnight mauling.

Blood thirsty, violent, wild. Alphas just can’t help themselves.

'Eventually, they’re gonna catch her' she thought.

Sherry looks back at the interstate, all the cars flying at her.

It was nice to walk for awhile, but it’s time to find a new place. Maybe the place for once, if the rogues decide she isn’t worth it.They’ll know which way to look.

She's thinking she should stick her thumb out now, best to get up the road, get a few towns between her and the mutts gunning for her…while a sight as terrible and inescapable as the grim reaper rides up over the crest of the hill.

Not that one, she thinks, but she knows it is. The one who found her in the first place, who went right into the heart of the city and staked out where she worked downtown. The one that got too close. He rides a big black motorcycle, a cruiser, wears a leather coat and sunglasses. Shelley remembers how his had body bulges with muscles that could break her in half.

There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. She can’t shift and run in broad daylight, not with this traffic. Some small hope sparks when the bike rides on past her but of course, that’s stupid, it’s already showing brake lights, already slowing down, and it pulls off the side, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel.

The Alpha comes to a stop, boots landing down to steady the machine.

He stares at Sherry hard in the review mirror, eyes hiding behind sunglasses. His hair is just long enough to reach the tie at the base of his neck, several dark strands loose and wild from the wind.

He’ll smile any second now. Smug prick.

"it's a little hard tracking you, trouble."

'I got you, say the eyes behind the sunglasses'. Sherry can sense the words even if the distance prevents them from speaking just yet.The dust settles.

The alpha doesn’t smile,doesn’t change expression really, his face worn in a permanent frown. Doesn’t take his eyes off Sherry either. The wind pushes lightly at Sherry ’s back, and though his nostrils don’t flare and he doesn’t tilt his head back, the way alphas do when they sense a b*tch in heat, he has to smell it. It’s been getting worse lately. All the alphas coming around probably have something to do with it.

Though Sherry has a fully functional human mind, her biology is built for a creature far more primitive and cutthroat. Her legs want to run. And boy, can they. She could be across the field and out of sight in about fifteen seconds, and that’s saying something in this treeless landscape.

God, what a mistake it was to pay her rent instead of getting a bus ticket. Stupid, stupid move, a decision made by her soft heart.

His generous old landlady, relies on social security and her rent check each month, so she couldn’t leave her in a lurch like that, especially when she took a chance on him with no references, no credit, no nothing except a job and a promise.

'Idiot' Self preservation should have taken priority. She should have bought the bus ticket.

Unbidden, a thought comes. She'd just follow the bus.

The alpha shuts off the machine and sits there, watching while Sherry stands still and thinks. His silent gaze seems to say, Well what’s it gonna be?The alpha’s hands leave the throttle and clutch to fish some chew out of his jacket. Disgusting habit.

Though he seems relaxed and patient, waiting him out, Sherry knows an alpha doesn’t put up with much, and she’s pushing it already. There really was never a choice to run to begin with. She should have known the second this alpha showed up at her work that she was done.

The constant moving was wearing on her, and she’d met good people this time around. Se’d wanted so badly to stay. She blew it.

A dragging step carries her forward. There’s no choice. The alpha knows it, that’s why she hasn’t bothered to even give the order. It’s a done deal. The only question is whether Sherry will refuse. The alpha might want her to run just for the sport.

Small, shuffling steps carry her forward unwillingly. She's a chain